


Coffee Shop AU AU

by tiny_freakin_head



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Anal Sex, Canon-Typical Violence, First Aid, Gunshot Wounds, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pre-Canon, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-20
Updated: 2017-12-22
Packaged: 2019-02-17 08:59:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13073535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tiny_freakin_head/pseuds/tiny_freakin_head
Summary: Lawry Mundy is hired to protect René, the owner of a small coffee shop. Neither of them are who the other thinks they are.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Yep, there are two "AU"s on purpose!

Lawry had worked in incredibly dangerous situations for most of his adult life - surrounded by enemy soldiers, passing him so close that he couldn’t even shift without giving his position away; living in close proximity with dangerous animals while he hunted dangerous people, any of whom could have turned on him at any moment - but this job was the most terrifying yet. He had to be around people - normal, ordinary people he wasn’t being paid to kill. Who there would be consequences if he killed. He had to talk, and smile, and pretend he didn’t want to run back to the wilds where he was alone and the world made sense.  
  
The man he’d been hired to guard worked in a coffee shop for chrissakes. Lawry’s employer hadn’t told him why a coffee shop owner needed the protection of a world class assassin, but the money was too good to refuse, especially for a babysitting gig.  
  
He divided his time between the roof across from the shop - which was lovely and people-free - and the shop itself, watching for suspicious characters.  
  
It didn’t help that the man he was guarding was good looking. Gorgeous, even, and he filled out his pants surprisingly well for such a skinny bloke. And he flirted shamelessly - with everyone, not just with Lawry.  
  
Lawry hoped he could find whoever was out to kill him quickly.

René could see right through his new customer. Or so he thought. He knew immediately how people shy the Australian was, and flirted with him mercilessly, always taking time to engage with him and force a conversation.  
  
René had been a fixture of this coffee shop for almost a year, when it had been bought out from the old owner. He wasn’t here to make a profit, however. His intentions were geared towards passing along messages between agents, safekeeping packages, translating codes, and once in awhile, murdering someone. But none of that stopped him from enjoying his familiar customers or the delicious coffee and the few baked goods he knew how to prepare.  
  
“Lawry,” he smiled as the man entered the little café, “You just can’t stay away from me, can you.”

Lawry grinned in response, more a spasm of his lips than an actual smile. He ducked his head and nodded, hoping he could just get his usual coffee—decaf—and sit. In his usual spot, which had been difficult to choose—he needed to be able to see René at all times, but he also didn’t want to be staring directly at him, both because it wasn’t very covert and he had a horrible habit of blushing every time René caught him looking. He’d never tried the croissants for the same reason.

“The usual, I presume?” René had already started to pour Lawry’s coffee. He never got anything else. No matter how René tried to tempt him with other drinks or treats. He was still waiting for the day he got an actual smile out of the man, and not just a near-painful facsimile.

Lawry nodded again, nibbling a bit of loose skin on his lip. The nice thing about arriving just after the coffee shop opened was that he was the first customer. Not only did he get to sit wherever he wanted, he also got some time by himself to settle into the space before other people started stampeding through. Unfortunately, it also meant all of René’s attention was focused on him.

Lawry had been coming here for about two months now, and René was starting to put together a few clues. He was certainly not the tame artistic type he pretended to be. Though he was more than a passable artist, he also had some interesting scars. He had a vicious bruise under his right thumbnail which said to René that he used a breech-loading rifle with some regularity. Not only did he use one, but fast enough that his thumb got caught in the breech bolt. René had tried out this theory by carefully putting a hand on the other man’s shoulder when reaching past him to put down his coffee. Lawry gave a little half-bitten off hiss of pain when he touched the place a rifle would sit against his shoulder.

The Australian wasn’t a contact of his, and he’d been scoping out the place for a long time. René was getting more and more paranoid every day the lanky stranger came by.

Silently lifting his coffee cup by way of thanks, Lawry settled in his usual spot and got out his sketchbook and pencils. One nice thing about the city—there was an art supplies store near the coffee shop, near enough that Lawry felt comfortable leaving for a few minutes. He was used to making due with whatever he had on hand—an old, broken pen that leaked almost as much ink as it put where it was supposed to; a well-chewed stub of pencil; a grimy nub of eraser that usually smeared more than actually erasing; a few greasy, tattered scraps of paper that had been folded so many times they tended to tear along the creases. He’d actually come to a complete halt when he’d entered the shop—it was stuffed to the brim with everything an artist could ever need, and then some, all of it shiny and new and untouched. He’d gone a little mad, grabbing things more or less at random—and when would he ever need a filbert brush, anyway? He rarely painted, and when he did he was more than happy to make due with any small brush he could find. He’d stealthily put most of it back, making sure the clerk wasn’t watching, until he was left with a thick pad of sketching paper and a tin of assorted pencils. He hadn’t even known there _were_ different kinds of pencils, and honestly, after a few days of playing around with the harder and softer ones, he mostly used the one closest to what he was used to.

He very resolutely didn’t draw René—at least not when he was in the coffee shop, and he was usually too weary at the end of the day to do much more than shower and fall into bed, grateful beyond reckoning to finally be alone.

Unfortunately, this meant he wasn’t sure what else _to_ draw. Most of his usual subjects would attract too much attention. He’d gone back to the art store and bought a few books that _looked_ like instructions on how to draw—he couldn’t read the titles, anymore than he could read the name of the coffee shop. He didn’t need the instructions, though again, it was a little fun to mess around with them and try drawing a different way, but it gave him a general guide about what most people would draw. A lot of flowers and horses, apparently. The flowers were a little boring, at least until he started concentrating more and more on detail, but he’d always enjoyed drawing horses, and they offered so many angles and positions.

René resolved to confront Lawry tonight, the man was usually in around closing time and this time he intended to close a little bit early, maybe see if he could lure Lawry into the back so he didn’t have to threaten him within view of the windows.

Still, it was a pity. He was going to miss his quiet artist, always copying things out of one of his books. René was privately disappointed that Lawry never seemed to sketch from life.

None of René’s suspicion showed on his face or in his actions, so Lawry remained blissfully unaware that he’d been found out. He spent the day drawing and watching René—strictly for professional reasons—and the other customers. None of them seemed terribly threatening. Many of them were overly interested in René, both men and women, but not in a dangerous way. Lawry could sympathize.

He drank cup after cup of coffee, holding his piss as long as he could so he didn’t have to go every twenty minutes. That would defeat the purpose of surveillance, and he couldn’t very well piss in a jar in the middle of a crowded café.

When closing time finally came, Lawry was, as René had expected, the last one. He closed the curtains a little early, but still hadn’t shut off any lights, or the music, trying to make sure Lawry wouldn’t take it as a hint to leave. He silently locked the door and flipped the butterfly knife out of his pocket with an ease that showed many hours of practice. He nudged the man’s bag away from his table and sat next to him, knife still hidden next to his thigh. “You’ve been coming here a long time,” he said casually, giving Lawry a little smile. “but you never talk much about yourself.”

Lawry felt the first twinge of unease—stupid. He should he noticed something was off far, far sooner, but he’d gotten caught up in a drawing of one of his childhood dogs. Dingos, actually, but he was hoping no one would notice. His eyes flicked around the shop—curtains closed, door locked. _Piss_. There was a certain tone, a set to René’s shoulders, that told him the man was onto him and had stopped playing. _And_ that, unlike what the people who’d employed Lawry had led him to believe, René was not a simple go-between. Sniper had spent his whole life around predators, both human and animal, and he was disgusted with himself for not noticing the one hiding right in front of his face—the most dangerous kind. He wasn’t sure why he’d been hired to protect this man, who, it was suddenly clear, was more than capable of taking care of himself. If René didn’t have weapon on him, he’d eat his akubra. If he lived long enough to retrieve it from his hotel room.

He made a quick mental inventory. He didn’t have his rifle or kukri, obviously. He had a pocket knife on the table, which he used for sharpening his pencils—why carry a little gadget around when a knife would do just fine—and a decent-sized knife strapped to his ankle, but he didn’t think he could reach it without René noticing.

Lawry had never been a very good actor or liar, but his work and life didn’t usually depend on those skills. Still, he wanted to stall just a moment longer. Maybe he’d made a mistake just now, and René was flirting, or suspicious but not in a lethal way. In any case, a few more seconds of deception couldn’t hurt.

He shrugged one shoulder, closing his sketchbook as though self conscious about René seeing his drawings. “Not much to tell. Not like you.” He grinned, letting his awkwardness and, reluctantly, attraction show. “Bet you’ve seen all kinds of interesting things.”

“I have,” René admitted, still watching Lawry carefully. “How about I tell you some of the things I’ve noticed about you, and you can tell me if I’m right?” he suggested.

“A-alright.” Lawry didn’t have to fake the tremor in his voice, and he was increasingly certain he’d badly underestimated the man he was protecting. He eyes darted to the door, and he wished he was wearing his sunglasses to hide the movement. His legs were longer than René’s, and if he was careful he might have the element of surprise. René was between him and the door—doubtless on purpose—but he still might be able to make it. If the latch opened in one try. And he didn’t like the thought of leaving René at his back. Piss. He’d just have to sit, at least for now, and see where this went. After all, he’d been hired to _protect_ René, not kill him, but something told him the man wouldn’t appreciate being watched, no matter with what intentions.

René started by dropping the most important fact. “If you’re not a professional sniper, you’re at least very proficient with a rifle or a shotgun. You’ve set up a little camp across the street from here, and you’re in here every day for a reason other than my delicious coffee. I just can’t figure out who hired you, and for what reason.”

“I…” Lawry curled his thumb into a fist and dropped his hand below the table. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Your coffee _is_ delicious, but I think you’ve got me confused with someone else.”

“Don’t play dumb,” René hissed, “You may not be completely obvious, but you’ve been here long enough for me to put a few things together. Why are you here?”

Lawry sighed. “Alright, you’ve got me. I was hired to protect you, but I’m starting to get the feeling I’m not the only one hiding something.”

“Hah! Who would have hired _you_ to protect _me_?” He couldn’t think of any of his allies who would think he’d need a sniper. And if they did, why not just warn him? Why go behind his back to protect him with this awkward man? “Tell me another one.”

“I don’t know. I don’t exactly ask a lot of questions—maybe I should start,” Lawry added, wryly.

René sighed. “Well, you are a terrible liar, so—”

A shot shattered the front window and both men were on the floor in an instant. René closed and pocketed his knife. He’d grazed his thigh through his trousers and knew he’d need to look at that later.

René shot Lawry a look that said ‘well that clearly wasn’t _you_ ’.

After a brief moment of stunned shock, Lawry couldn’t help a small told-you-so smirk. “I thought I’d scoped out the building pretty well, but now I’m hoping I missed something. You got a back way out of here?” Wincing, he picked a shard of glass out of his forearm.

“I’m not an idiot,” René growled, grabbing Lawry by the wrist and pulling him behind the counter. Kicking aside the rug he opened a hatch that led into the basement. Another shot rang out, closer to the counter this time.

“Never thought you were.” Lawry laughed. “You never used this while I was here, did you? Then _I’d_ feel like an idiot. More than I already do.”

“ _Non_ , this is for emergencies,” René retorted, already halfway down the narrow ladder. He gestured for Lawry to follow him, glad that the sniper across the street wasn’t good enough to have made that first shot.

“Lucky for you they hired me first,” Lawry murmured as he started down the ladder, unknowingly echoing René’s thought. “I still don’t think you’re an idiot, but I am hoping you’ve got a secret route out of this basement.”

René gave him a look, moving one of the shelves to reveal a patch of wall that swung in when René pushed on it. “It comes out in the basement of the apartment building next door.” Where he happened to live.

“Very nice. Who exactly is after you, and why? I’ve been keeping an eye out—from here and…” Blushing a little, Lawry gestured in the direction the shots had come from. “I haven’t seen anyone suspicious. I was starting to think you were just—never mind. Clearly you’re…ah…well prepared.”

René started down the tunnel with a sigh, expecting Lawry to follow. “I’ve been a bit of a thorn in certain sides, and I think they must have finally figured out where my little home base is located. I was expecting a package yesterday that never showed up, so I’m starting to think I just lost that contact for good.” He opened the door into the basement of the apartment and went to the elevator. “You may as well come up, they’re likely after you as well.”

Lawry grinned and followed. “You said I don’t talk much about myself, but I could say the same thing. Especially now. I’m pretty sure everything I _have_ heard you say is a lie.”

He shrugged, grinning back. “It’s what I’m best at. And ‘have a croissant, they’re fresh out of the oven’ is hardly a lie.” They went up to René’s room and he let Lawry in, after a quick listen at the door.

“I don’t know about that,” Lawry teased, “maybe you just get them in frozen.” He almost stopped René from going in, but forced himself to step back. “You think we’ll be safe here for a bit?”

“Did you know where I live?” he asked.

Lawry tilted his head. “It took me a while—and now I see why. Felt pretty stupid when I realized you lived right next door.”

“I’m very careful,” René said. “If it took you awhile, then a second-rate sniper most likely knows nothing more than where I ‘work’. Honestly, he had all day to take a shot with the blinds open, I’m not sure why he waited until closing.” He stepped into his little apartment, closing the door behind them. “Is your name really Lawry?”

“Yes, you are, and I’m not sure either. Don’t like it. Something must’ve changed—besides you confronting me, I assume.” Lawry couldn’t help a little happy glow at being called—essentially—a first-rate sniper. “It is, yeah. I thought about using another one, but…I was worried I wouldn’t answer to it and give everything away, so I decided I’d best keep it simple. Is yours really René?”

René merely smiled and shrugged. “Do you think he’ll stay out there all night? I didn’t hear a third shot.”

“Yeah, that’s about what I thought.” Lawry couldn’t help smiling back. He considered for a moment, trying to remember when he’d been a rookie sniper—a long ways back, now. Finally, he nodded. “He didn’t see us come out, and there’s only one exit from the café—as far as he knows. Even if he thinks we got out of the shop, he probably thinks we’re still in the building. Is there another way out of _this_ building? If so, we can try and slip out when it’s fully dark, though I honestly don’t know where we’d go that’s safe if my nest’s been compromised. If not, we can rest for the night, resupply, try and figure out what to do tomorrow. Wish I had my rifle. Doubt I could get him from here, but I might at least be able to shake him up a bit, keep his head down.”

“There’s a back door,” he nodded. “But I think you’re right, let’s rest and eat something. I’ll make sure we get some warning if anyone does break in.” He let Lawry wander his apartment, setting up a wire to the door handle that went back to a battery strapped to the side of the doorframe. “Don’t touch that,” he suggested.

Lawry winced. “Wasn’t planning to. Anything else I should know about?” He paused, careful not to touch anything. “Something just occurred to me, and I’m only saying it because you’ve probably thought the same thing—this could be someone trying to get me killed, too. It’s awfully convenient that I got pushed into letting you know what I was really up to, and it’d be a lot easier for me to kill you if you thought I was protecting you. I _was_ hired to protect you, and as you said, I’m a terrible liar, but I wanted to get that out in the open. If we’re going to get through this alive, we need to be able to trust each other.” He blinked, then cocked his head. “Within reason, of course. I don’t think either of us have lived this long by being trusting.”

“I’ll promise not to murder you if you promise not to murder me? Really, you’ve been watching me for two months, if you wanted to kill me, you would have done it already. And if I had been hired to kill you, again, it’s been a long time, and I’ve had many opportunities.” René chuckled. “I wouldn’t touch the windows either, but other than that the place is safe.”

Lawry nodded. “That’s good. Just…didn’t want you getting quietly suspicious.” He shot a nervous glance at the windows, but nodded. “Would you be unhappy if I said this is how I would’ve pictured your place?” He blushed. “Not that I’ve…” He coughed, looking at René’s bookshelf as a distraction—not that he could read any of the titles.

René smirked. “Mhm. Well, not to make you uncomfortable, but I’m going to need to take off my pants.” He was bleeding, he could feel it, hot and running down his leg, sticking the material of his pants to his skin. Luckily the cut felt pretty shallow. He stripped off his trousers and shoes, grabbing a cloth from his bathroom and wetting it to sponge off most of the blood.

Lawry straightened in alarm. “You alright? Did glass or shrapnel get you?”

“No, I was holding a knife when the shot went off, and it surprised me. Is your arm alright?”

“Ah, right.” Lawry laughed. “Wasn’t sure if it was a knife or a gun. You’re not badly hurt though?” He frowned for a moment, confused. “Oh, yeah, I’m fine. It’s stopped bleeding, though I should probably check over the rest of me, especially my hair. I know glass likes to hide in there and get into my scalp.”

“I’ll check for you, if you want.” The cut had mostly stopped bleeding and René was sure it wouldn’t be long before it had closed completely. He washed his hands and gestured for Lawry to sit on the bed so he could look through his hair without having to stand on his tiptoes. Or get a ladder. Lawry was very tall.

“Thanks.” Lawry sat, biting his lip a little. He hoped René would chalk it up to the glass digging into his scalp, but it was more the thought of René’s hands petting through his hair. Looking for glass. Not… Well, he could dream, couldn’t he? No. He couldn’t. He had a job to do, they had to stay alive, he had to remain professional.

René checked through Lawry’s hair carefully, and, finding nothing, squeezed Lawry’s shoulder. The unbruised one. “Sorry we left your sketchbook and your bag,” he said regretfully. He was very fond of Lawry’s art.

Lawry started to laugh, then blinked in surprise—René’s regret sounded genuine. “That’s alright. I can always draw more. I’ve _got_ lots more, too, though everything I had here is probably gone. My parents must have mountains of my drawings by now.” He sighed. “It’s a pity about the rifle, but there’s nothing for it now. Gotta get you somewhere safe.”

“Your rifle was up on the roof?” René frowned. That was a pity, that really left defending the two of them in his hands, which was fine, but not as easy as having both of them armed.

“It wasn’t just lying about on the roof!” Lawry said, insulted. “It was in its case, in my nest.”

“Your nest is on the roof?”

“No, it’s in one of the empty offices, but I’m assuming they’ve found where I was. If they have half a brain.”

“I wouldn’t be too sure,” René laughed. “They did miss us both, after all.”

“True. Well, maybe I can go back for it later. I’ve got a knife, anyway.” Lawry unstrapped it from his ankle—slowly—and showed it to René before moving it to his belt where it would be more accessible. His stomach growled. “Sorry. Been a long time since that scone.”

René nodded. “Help yourself to anything, I promise the fridge is safe.”

That startled a laugh out of Lawry. “That sounds like something someone with an unsafe fridge would say, but I’ll take your word for it.” He grinned and theatrically waved René in front of him. “After you—you must be hungry by now, too.”

René was fairly sure Lawry only wanted him to go first out of paranoia, and decided to allay his fears anyway. He pulled out some leftovers and, after getting a nod of approval, popped them in the oven to warm up, enough for both of them.

“Smells good.” Lawry grinned. “Smells…familiar.”

“Hush, it’s from the restaurant across the street. I don’t cook much.”

“Thought I recognized it.” Lawry shrugged. “I don’t cook much, either, at least not when I’m in the city.”

“You don’t spend much time in the city, do you?” René confirmed. He’d thought so. Lawry’s sun-browned skin and all around leatheriness had tipped him off.

Lawry ducked his head. “Am I that obvious?”

“Yes,” René chuckled. “You don’t much like people, either. You always get nervous when the café is full. _Was_ full,” he sighed. He was going to have to set up shop somewhere else, maybe in a new city entirely. He was starting to get used to his routine here. That probably should have been his first warning sign.

“I feel like you know more about me than the other way around, and I’m the one getting paid to watch you! Sorry about your shop,” Lawry added, hoping he’d read René correctly.

“I’ve had a lot of time to watch you, and I’m very good at reading people. I doubt you need to read people that well when you plan on shooting them in the head,” René retorted. “It wasn’t really my shop, it was just a cover. Still, it was nice.”

“Not really,” Lawry told him, wryly. “I guess I noticed you watching me, I just didn’t know you were _watching_ me, and now I feel like an idiot. It was a nice shop,” he agreed. “I…I think I’ll miss it, too. A little. Not the people, though.”

“Just me, I hope,” René teased.

“Maybe,” Lawry said, hoping he also sounded teasing.

Lawry was terrible at flirting, but that was part of his charm. The food was starting to smell good and René took it out of the oven, making them both plates.

“Thanks.” It had been a long time since Lawry had sat at a table and eaten with someone else. It made him think of home, so he pushed that thought away. “I’m hoping you’ve got a good stash of weapons here?”

“Yes, though no rifles,” René said regretfully. He paused to eat for a moment. “I’ll let you pick through what I have, I’m sure you’re the better shot.”

“I don’t know about that; I’ve never been much for handguns. But it wouldn’t hurt for both of us to be as well armed as possible.”

René nodded. He was tired. A full day of work, plus getting shot at? More than enough for him. They finished their dinners quickly, both of them were hungry. “Are you tired, or do you want to stay up?”

“I’m still a little wired, honestly. You can sleep if you’d like, I’ll keep watch.”

“I could use a shower,” René admitted. “But after that I’m sure I’ll pass out.” He headed for the bathroom, leaving the door open so they could hear each other, sure that it would ease both of their paranoia.

“Actually, a shower sounds pretty good right about now,” Lawry called after him. “I know I’m a little sweaty, and I didn’t exactly do my body any favours when I hit the floor. Mind if I take one after you?”

“Of course not,” he called over the running water. He undressed and stepped under the hot water, hissing as it hit the gash in his leg.

“You alright?” Lawry asked, hearing the wince and tensing. He didn’t think there was anything dangerous in the bathroom—especially because he’d checked all the rooms when they’d first arrived—but it was possible René had been hiding another injury or something.

“Just hurt my leg, I’m fine.” It was a little odd talking to someone while in the shower, but he’d definitely been in stranger situations. He was quick, only taking a few minutes before getting out and wrapping a towel around himself, stepping out to allow Lawry in.

Trying to ignore René’s still-wet skin and the thought of nothing but a towel between them, Lawry ducked into the bathroom with a blush. He too left the door open, quickly stripping and stepping into the water. He’d never been modest about his own body.

He wasn’t used to water heated by anything by more than the sun, so he tended to indulge a bit when he had an actual shower, scrubbing himself thoroughly and letting the water soothe his sore muscles.

René dried off and collapsed on the bed with a groan. He was tired. Even the thought of Lawry naked in the next room—a very appealing thought—wasn’t enough to keep him up. He tossed the towel over a nearby chair and covered his lower half with the sheets, not wanting to make Lawry too uncomfortable.

Finally finished—when the water started cooling off too much even for him—Lawry dried himself quickly and pulled on his sweaty clothes with a grimace. He smiled softly at René, trying very hard not to imagine what was beneath the blanket. “You look done in. Want me to take first watch?” Not that there was much to watch—the apartment was on the opposite side of the building from the café and the sniper’s nest, and all the nearby buildings were lower. It was a well chosen location.

Still, he could stay by the door and at least try and give them a heads-up if he heard anything suspicious.

“The trap I left will give us adequate warning, and incapacitate anyone trying to get in. You might as well sleep, you look tired.”

Lawry nodded, a little reluctantly, but he knew René was right—they’d both be better off after some rest. “Do you have an extra pillow and blanket I could use?”

“Just share the bed with me, it’s big enough for both of us.”

“I-I’m not sure that’s a good idea…”

“Why? Because you couldn’t resist me?” René teased.

Lawry’s eyes widened for a moment, before he realized René was only teasing. “Something like that,” he agreed, unable to sound teasing in response.

René laughed. “Come lay down.” He patted the bed.

“Just to sleep,” Lawry insisted.

René made a moue, but nodded, rolling over so his back was to Lawry. Doubtless the other man would be more comfortable that way.

Nodding resolutely, Lawry turned off the light and climbed into bed. He started automatically shifting over to cuddle against René, before remembering they were being professional. He couldn’t get his mind to still, so he finally murmured, “You still awake?”

“Mhm,” René sounded sleepy, but definitely awake.

“You flirted with everyone at the coffee shop…”

“Yes, and?”

“And…never mind.”

“You’re wondering if I was genuinely flirting with you?” he rolled back over to face Lawry.

“M-maybe.” Lawry rolled so his back was to René, hoping the movement seemed natural and not fear-based.

Slowly, René reached out and wrapped an arm around Lawry’s middle, pulling himself up flush to the other man.

Lawry shivered like an anxious horse, but didn’t try to pull away. He froze, letting René make the next move.

“I think we can afford a distraction, don’t you?” René murmured, his hand drifting down Lawry’s abdomen.

“I…you seem to have a pretty good grip on…everything.” Lawry mentally cursed himself when he realized how that sounded.

René laughed, “I think I can have a better grip,” he teased, taking Lawry’s erection in hand and stroking him.

Lawry gave a short bark of laughter. “Yeah, apparently you can,” he said, a little breathlessly. “So, were you…?”

“Really flirting with you? Yes,” his voice was a little breathy too, his excitement showing plainly. He ground his hips against Lawry’s ass, still stroking.

“I’m not always the best at…noticing. Being sure,” Lawry said, babbling a little. He rocked back against René, loving the feeling of René’s erection sliding against him while René’s hand stroked.

“Mm,” René made a soft sound of agreement, his hand speeding up.

“Do you have… I mean, we could…if you want.” Lawry laughed again. “Won’t last long if you keep that up, though.”

“We could…?” René prompted, still enjoying his habit of pushing Lawry to talk more, to say what he meant instead of just implying.

Lawry sighed, rolling his eyes. “Do you want to fuck?” he said, bluntly, blushing and squirming a little after the words had poured out of him. “Pest.” The word was almost eaten by a groan as René’s nimble fingers found an especially sensitive place to stroke.

“Yes.” René sounded eager. He turned on the lamp and grabbed a bottle of lube from his bedside table.

Lawry shivered again, this time with anticipation. He rolled over—carefully, so he didn’t leave a damp spot on the sheets—so he could see René. He was hoping—but not overly—that René would ask the necessary questions so he wouldn’t have to.

“Would you rather fuck or be fucked?”

“…be fucked,” Lawry murmured, after a moment’s hesitation, “but it might be uncomfortable with your cut.”

“I’ll be fine,” he said, opening the bottle of lube and warming some up on his fingers. “Get comfortable.”

The sight of René slicking his fingers made Lawry’s cock twitch. He rolled onto his knees and elbows, propping himself up for René. “Let me know if you need me a little lower.”

René slid his fingers over Lawry’s hole, then slowly worked one in, taking his time and making sure nothing he did was uncomfortable.

Lawry hummed with pleasure, arching back to meet René’s questing fingers. “You can go a little faster, mate,” he murmured, accent thickening.

René sped up, pressing in a second finger, and then a third. As he’d said, Lawry opened up quite well for him even at this speed. “You look so good like this,” he purred.

Lawry blushed, glad René couldn’t see it. “Don’t know about that. I’m just all arms and legs and no arse to speak of…” he trailed off as René curled his fingers. “Feel so good…”

“Good,” he pulled his fingers out and slicked up his cock. With one hand on his cock and the other on Lawry’s hip, he guided himself into the other man with a soft moan.

“Ohhhh, fuck!” Lawry groaned, forcing himself to keep still and let René go slowly. “Wanted you…thought about this…” He bit his lip to keep from admitting anything else—he wanted to open up to René in more way than one, and that could be both embarrassing and dangerous.

“Me too,” René admitted. It had been easy to fantasize about his sweet, awkward artist finally opening up to him, and though the fantasy had been quite different than the reality, he was glad he finally got to do this. He pushed in further, moaning as Lawry’s hot, tight ass squeezed around his cock.

“Really?” Lawry managed, before he stopped being able to form coherent words. He’d thought about this so many times—stroked himself off thinking about René more times than he cared to admit—but the real thing was so much better. René’s cock was fairly slender, but what he lacked in girth he more than made up for in skill and precision.

“Fuck,” René cursed as Lawry tightened around him. He could tell he’d hit a sensitive spot in him and angled himself to press against it again. “Yes.”

“Fuck,” Lawry agreed, fingers clenching in the blankets as René drove into him. “Not going to last like this,” he admitted. “Been a while, and…”

“Yeah,” he groaned, stroking his hand down Lawry’s long back. “You’re so tight.” His rhythm was starting to fall apart as he grew closer and closer to cumming.

Lawry nodded, lowering his forehead to the mattress. He hoped René was close, too; he suspected so. René’s thrusts felt a little more random, a little less controlled.

René dug in his fingernails as he started to cum in Lawry, thrusting hard, curling over the man until his head rested on Lawry’s back.

Lawry cried out hoarsely, one hand sliding beneath him for a few quick, frenzied strokes before he came too. “That was…” he managed, once he’d caught his breath. “Wow.”

René pulled out carefully, before flopping on the bed next to Lawry, panting.

“I’d say that was worth being shot at,” Lawry groaned, sliding an arm beneath René’s neck and pulling him closer. He looked away when he realized what he’d just said, blushing a little. “I mean…not that I want your life to be in danger…I just… It was good. I’m going to stop talking now.”

René laughed softly, happily nuzzling into Lawry. “It was good,” he agreed. “We should probably sleep.”

Lawry yawned, nodding in response.


	2. Chapter 2

Lawry jerked awake, the way he usually did in an unfamiliar bed. The room was dark, but he could feel someone in the bed next to him. His body reacted before memory set in, and he rolled over the side of the bed, landing in a defensive crouch. Hitting the floor woke him up completely. He kept still and hoped he hadn’t woken René up.

René was a light sleeper, and Lawry bodily throwing himself out of bed woke him up immediately. Luckily he hadn’t brought a weapon to bed with him. He chuckled when he realized it was just Lawry. “You’re alright?”

“Yeah, nothing injured but my pride. Sorry about that.” Lawry stood, trying to make it seem natural, like he hadn’t just been hunched on the ground ready to attack or be attacked. “Not used to waking up with someone else.”

“I understand.” René stifled a yawn. The curtains were drawn and it was hard to tell what time it was. Early, he’d guess.

“Do you think we have time for breakfast, or do we need to make ourselves scarce?” Lawry asked, eager to change the subject. And he was hungry. What he wanted most of all was to climb back into bed with René and see where that took them, but he knew that wasn’t possible. Yet. At least until they killed or got away from whoever was after René.

“Breakfast. Then safehouse.” René stood, dressing himself. “I don’t think I have anything that will fit you, which is a pity. A disguise would make this easier.”

Lawry snickered. “Yeah, even if they did fit, I’m a bit hard to disguise. Not like you.” Yes, René was gorgeous, but he was of average height and build. If he dyed his hair or put on a wig, Lawry suspected he could quickly make himself unrecognizable.

Lawry made a face, pulling on his soiled clothes. “Rather just have something clean, but I’ve had worse.”

“You’d be surprised how easy it is to change someone’s appearance,” René chuckled. He went to the kitchen and grabbed a few eggs and a loaf of bread, turning on the burner to heat up a frying pan. There was a bang as the window shattered and he was suddenly on the floor, amongst a lot of broken glass and some broken eggs.

“Not with you I would—” The rest of Lawry’s words were drowned out by the gunshot and glass hitting the floor. He threw himself down, shouldering René’s small table onto its side so it was between the window and the rest of the kitchen—it wouldn’t stop a bullet, but if they stayed low, it would at least keep the other sniper from seeing them. “René, you alright?” He crawled closer to the other man, his hand slipping in an unpleasant mixture of egg, shell, and glass. His knee was uncomfortably wet, and he hoped it was just egg.

His shoulder was burning and it took him a moment to realize he’d been shot. “No. Yes.” He wasn’t sure. The wound wasn’t too far down and hadn’t hit the bone, but he’d lost a fair bit of skin and he was bleeding a lot. Thankfully he wasn’t feeling any real pain, just heat. “I’ll be alright, this fucking sniper is second rate and can’t even manage a clean headshot,” he cursed.

Lawry laughed with relief. “Well, you’re talking, so you can’t be too badly off. And, again, I’m just glad they _are_ a second-rate sniper. First aid kit?”

“In the bathroom. Be careful,” he hissed as he attempted to take off his shirt. It was ruined, and they couldn’t escape with him covered in blood. That would be a pretty obvious giveaway. Maybe he was worried about the wrong thing, he was bleeding a lot.

“Just stay still, alright? Put some pressure on it if you can reach without making it worse.” Keeping low, Lawry ducked out of the kitchen and into the hall. He rummaged freely in the bathroom, knocking things off shelves—this wasn’t the time for care, and he doubted René would be returning to this apartment, anyway. He grabbed the first aid kit, stopped in the bedroom for a new shirt for René—hopefully they could stop the bleeding enough that it wouldn’t just go straight through—and returned to René. “So much for breakfast,” he chuckled, unfastening the little red kit and doing a quick inventory. René had gotten his shirt half-off and his head was stuck, so he couldn’t see Lawry’s grin. “Here, let me.” He efficiently cut the shirt the rest of the way off with the scissors in the kit. “Let’s have a look, then. Sorry if I hurt you.” He darted up, grabbed a large glass of water, and poured some of it on the wound so he could get a look at it before it filled with blood again. He hissed sympathetically. “Well, I’m sure it smarts, but I’d say you’re pretty lucky—it just grazed the top of your shoulder. Wasn’t quite low enough to make a hole clean though, but it did take a bit of flesh. Might need a few…stitches…” Lawry pretended to search the kit for a needle and thread so René wouldn’t notice his discomfort—he hated needles. He’d grown up on a farm, hunted his whole life, and spent his entire career as a professional assassin—he wasn’t squeamish about any part of death, dying, or bodies. Except needles.

René groaned as the water hit the wound. He was feeling a bit light headed, but otherwise still pain-free. He wished he could keep a clear head, but it didn’t seem like that was going to happen. He gave the wound a once over, nodding in agreement with Lawry’s assessment.

“Alright, I’m going to disinfect it. I know this’ll sting.” Lawry grabbed the hand on René’s uninjured arm and put it on his own shoulder, both to brace the other man and give him something to bear down on. “Don’t be afraid to dig in. Ready?” He unscrewed the bottle of antiseptic, pouring it over his hands.

He nodded again, screwing his eyes shut as the disinfectant ran over his injured shoulder and down his arm. He made a soft sound of pain, his arm lighting up with it from shoulder right down to his fingertips. “Oh fuck,” he managed, fingernails digging into Lawry instinctively.

“Sorry, sorry,” Lawry murmured, but kept pouring. Once he was sure the wound had been completely flushed, he threaded a hooked needle and snipped off a length, then poured more disinfectant on his tools and hands. “Ready?” he repeated, hoping his hand would stop shaking before he actually had to start stitching. His stomach lurched, and he mentally kicked himself—he could _do_ this! It was just a few tiny stitches. He’d stabbed men, decapitated them when he had to!

“You’re shaking,” René noticed with a little concern. “I’m fine,” he reassured him, wiggling his fingers to prove it. It hurt.

“Cut that out,” Lawry scolded, not sure if it was directed at him or René. “I’m fine, too.” He squatted as comfortably as possible, took a deep, steadying breath, and slid the needle into the skin on one side of the wound.

René hissed a little, mostly from the necessary moving of his wound than the actual feeling of the needle. Lawry was turning an astonishingly pale colour and he was starting to get concerned. “Lawry?” The bigger man fell flat on his ass, then fell back against the oven. René groaned as he pulled at the needle for a second before his hand relaxed. With a sigh, he grabbed the needle and made a handful of stitches before finishing up and cutting the rest of the thread. His hands and shoulder were covered in blood again but at least the wound was mostly closed. He wasn’t sure he could stand, so he just sat next to Lawry against the side of the oven, hidden from the windows, and rested for a little bit.

Lawry blinked, slowly coming back to himself. “René? Why are you looking at me like that? …did _I_ get shot?”

“No, you fainted.” René couldn’t help but smirk a little. “Didn’t even manage a stitch.”

“I…what?” Lawry peered up at the neat row of stitches on René’s shoulder.

René patted Lawry’s hand gently. “It’s alright, I did it. Let’s go, please? I don’t think I can stand on my own.”

Lawry felt his whole face go bright red, and he nodded, unable to form words. He quickly dressed the wound with thick gauze, so hopefully no blood would leak through— René had done a good job stitching it so the bleeding had mostly stopped, but Lawry looked at the stitches as little as possible—then passed René the shirt he’d grabbed. “You’ll have to tell me where we’re going. I don’t know the city— _cities_ —very well.”

“I think I can manage that,” René pulled on his new shirt after wiping his bloody hands on his already ruined shirt. “Let’s go.” He stood carefully, leaning on the wall.

Lawry watched him carefully for a moment, making sure he was steady on his feet. He gave René an assessing gaze—no blood had seeped through yet. René was pale and his face was tight with pain, but if no one looked at him too closely… “Do you have a hat?”

He nodded, pointing to the wardrobe by the door. He grabbed a hat and scarf. The scarf would cover any blood seeping through his shirt nicely. After disarming the device on the door, they made their way down to the street and René quietly led Lawry to his car, getting in the passenger seat and collapsing a little with relief.

Lawry nodded in response, following behind René just in case, but he seemed steady enough. He felt a little foolish when René led them to a car—for some reason, he’d expected they’d have to walk. He was much less worried about someone noticing how hurt René was or René collapsing, but now his heart was pounding. The car was much smaller than his van, almost claustrophobically so, and the unending stream of cars racing by seemed to be going much, much faster now that he knew he was supposed to be joining them. He gritted his teeth and took a firm grip on the steering wheel. “Where am I going?”

“Turn left once we hit the light, then we’re going straight out of the city.” René’s voice was a little weak now, and he was glad he was sitting down, otherwise he was sure he’d have fallen. The pain was taking over now, shooting through his shoulder and down his arm. Even breathing hurt.

“Right.” Hoping he looked more confident than he felt, for René’s sake, Lawry started the car and pulled into traffic. He could do this. He _had_ to do this, or they’d both die. That wasn’t helping.

He missed the turn, unable to get into the left lane in time, and he could feel terror-sweat beading on his forehead. He’d never understood why, out of all the dangerous animals he’d encountered, it was his own kind that frightened him the most. Being encased in tons of metal and glass certainly didn’t make them any less frightening.

“You’re doing fine,” René murmured, reaching over to touch Lawry’s arm. “Once we get out of sight of my building we’ll be alright. Just take the next turn.”

Lawry laughed, a little shakily. “I feel like I should be the one reassuring you, mate. But thanks.” He took a long, slow breath in through his nose, held it, then out his mouth. He made the next turn, and if his grip was so tight it made the leather on the steering wheel creak, that didn’t matter.

Sometime after they were out of the city, René continued with his instructions, leading Lawry to the safehouse. It was a quiet little farm with a large underground shelter beneath. René waited for Lawry to open his door so he could lean on him.

Lawry relaxed as soon as they were out of the city and the flow of traffic slowed. It was still a little busier than he was used to, but highway driving was always easier. There was a large, empty garage and Lawry drove the car in to hide it. Seeing how stiffly René was sitting, how pale he was, he circled around the car and opened the door for him, offering him an arm.

“Thank you.” René’s injured arm was nearest the door so it was difficult to get out, but he managed, finally leaning heavily on Lawry. “I take it you don’t drive much in the city?” he couldn’t help but smile.

“Sorry ’bout that.” Glad for the distraction of steadying René to hide his embarrassment, Lawry walked them to the farmhouse. “I don’t spend much time in the city at all, honestly. I think they had someone else lined up to baby—to guard you, but had to bring me in last minute.”

“Babysit?” René laughed. “Well, I’m glad it was you.”

“Yeah, that. I’m sure you’ve been hired for that kind of job before, too.” Lawry shook his head, grinning. “Even though I let you get shot?”

“Wasn’t your fault. Should have drawn the curtains in the kitchen. Didn’t think,” he admitted. “Though I’m sure he would have shot at the moving curtains too.” They headed down into the basement and René was glad to collapse on a chair, pulling off his now ruined shirt.

“I would’ve,” Lawry agreed, feeling a bizarre urge to defend the other sniper, even if they were trying to kill him. He hissed sympathetically when he saw how much blood had soaked through the bandage. “Do you have a change of clothes and a kit here somewhere?”

“I’ve never been here.” René thought about shrugging and decided it would be best not to. “I’m sure there’s both.”

Lawry wasn’t reassured to know that René had never been to this particular safehouse before, but he didn’t seem worried so Lawry wouldn’t either. He was quickly learning that René was as paranoid—if not more—than he was. If René felt secure here, he was sure they were safe. “I’ll go poke about a bit, then. You’ll be alright on your own for a minute? Are you hungry?”

“I’m fine, you go.” René slowly unwrapped the bandage, hissing as he looked at the angry looking wound. It was definitely going to scar, but he’d live, and he still had full movement in his hand, so he wasn’t too worried about permanent damage.

“Just…take it easy, alright?” Lawry frowned at him, then shook his head and went to explore the rest of the basement—René was just going to do whatever he wanted as soon as he was out of sight, anyway. In a bedroom he found a dresser with its drawers labelled by size, and more clothes in the closet. He had to estimate for René’s size, and in the end he just selected an armful so he could try a few different pants and jackets. He was at the tall end of the size-range, but he managed to find a pair of jeans, a long-sleeved shirt, and a coat that more or less fit him. Getting out of his sweaty, bloody clothes was a relief—he frequently went for long periods without washing his clothes, and he didn’t mind a man’s natural scent, but the blood was starting to turn and _that_ smell was decidedly unpleasant.

Slinging the clothes over his arm, he explored further until he found a bathroom. A first aid kit was mounted prominently on one wall, which he appreciated. He unhooked it and continued into a small but well-stocked kitchen. There was cheese and meat in the fridge, and bread on the counter. Good enough for him, but he was willing to make something fancier if René wanted it. He returned with his treasures.

René hadn’t moved, he had his eyes shut and he looked exhausted and pale.

Lawry softly cleared his throat, to let René know he was there without startling him. He set everything on the sofa, watching René with more than a little concern.

René saw his look and waved a hand. “I’m just tired, it’s been a long day.”

Lawry laughed. “Yeah, that it has. What do you want first—food, or…” he held up the first aid kit.

“A new bandage, I think.”

Lawry unwrapped the soiled bandage, murmuring, “Sorry, sorry,” as he had to peel it free from dried blood. “Ready?” He held up another bottle of disinfectant, making a sympathetic face.

René nodded, fists clenched tight. He hissed as the disinfectant ran over his arm. Lawry was quick to re-bandage him and René gave a sigh of relief once it was over. “Thank you.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re thanking me and not taking a swing. Wouldn’t be the first time,” Lawry laughed. “Is your stomach settled enough for a bit of food?”

“I think so,” René said, leaning his forehead against Lawry’s shoulder for a moment before letting him grab their food.

Smiling softly, Lawry gave René’s temple a quick kiss before making a good stack of sandwiches. He gave half to René and started eating his own, surprised by how hungry he was. The terror of driving in the city and trying to keep René safe had left him exhausted. “Are we safe here overnight, or do we need to move on right away? …what is the next step, anyway?”

“It’s up to you how long you want to stay here, but I’ll have a contact pick me up tomorrow and disappear for awhile. It should be safe to stay for awhile, but I am bad at staying still, especially after staying in one spot for so long.”

“Yeah, me too. In a way…I mean, I’m not happy you got shot or everything happened so suddenly, but I’ll admit I was getting a little restless. Do you think you can arrange something for me, too?” Lawry felt a spike of fear through his gut when he asked the question—despite all they’d been through, and the sex, he didn’t really know how far he could trust René.

René felt an odd little twinge, at the trust that question showed. “Of course. Wherever you want to go, I can arrange it. I’ll, I—” he pretended to be very interested in his sandwich, “I hope we’re never hired to kill each other,” was the best he was able to offer.

Lawry nodded, his throat too tight for words. He, too, was grateful for the distraction of food, and he was composed again by the time they’d finished. “Australia or Africa would be best for me, if you can…” He grinned, “Well, I’m sure you _can_ do anything, but I don’t want to be a bother.”

“I can arrange both, if you’d like to choose in the airport,” René suggested. That felt safer to him. Keep everyone guessing. He’d have a few different tickets waiting for him too, at a different airport, of course.

“That sounds perfect,” Lawry agreed, relieved. It might not have occurred to him, but he realized he would have felt a little panicked if he’d only had one option. “How’s your shoulder?” He briefly examined the bandage, nodding approvingly when he saw it was still dry.

“It stings, but everything seems fine, I can move my fingers and arm, so nothing’s permanently damaged. It’ll be quite the scar though.” René finished his food, after picking at it for some time.

“That’s a relief. Think I’d have to change careers if you were hurt much worse,” Lawry laughed, with a slight edge.

“It was hardly your fault,” René assured him.

“You were under my watch—I was right bloody _there_ ,” Lawry protested.

“You’re a sniper, not a bodyguard,” René retorted.

“Usually…” Lawry conceded, a little reluctantly.

“We’re both still alive.” René squeezed Lawry’s hand.

“Yeah, we are. Mostly thanks to you, I think.”

“I’m glad you were there.”

“I’m glad…me too.” Yawning, Lawry brushed the crumbs off his lap. “I think I’m about ready to turn in. Think that drive shaved a few years off my life!”

“I think being shot was the part that shaved something off me. Mostly my skin,” René smirked. He couldn’t help yawning after Lawry did. “Mind sharing a bed?”

Lawry shook his head, but he grinned. “That was terrible, but I suppose you earned it.” He gave René a soft look, then nodded. “I’d like that. What…whatever you’re up for.”

“I think just sleeping,” he said regretfully. He’d love to spend another night with Lawry, but his shoulder was very painful.

“I thought so. Well, another time, then?” Lawry smiled, his mouth tight. They both knew it was unlikely they’d see each other again, never mind be in the position to have sex. He stood and headed for the closest bedroom, pulling back the covers for René.

“Of course,” René said, stripping off everything but the bandage, laying down and pressing in close to Lawry.

Lawry held him close and tried not to think of morning.


	3. Chapter 3

It was nearly two decades later when René saw Lawry again. He’d taken a strange job in the middle of a desert, fighting over a gravel pit with eight other mercenaries. As soon as he saw their Sniper, he knew who it was. He had a few more lines around his mouth and eyes, but otherwise he was the same gangly man. René, now Spy, was slightly jealous of the fact that Lawry didn’t seem to have gone grey at all, unlike himself.

He waited until Lawry had retreated to his camper van—of course the man wouldn’t sleep in the base with the rest of the mercenaries—and approached him after dark, knocking on his door. He was pretty sure Lawry hadn’t recognized him, what with his uniform’s mask.

Lawry— _Sniper_ , he kept having to remind himself—had been lightly dozing when he heard the knock. He sat up, listening closely. He still wasn’t sure he entirely trusted the respawn system—besides, dying in battle was a bit different than murdered in cold blood—but he reasoned that anyone coming to kill him probably wouldn’t knock. Probably.

“It’s unlocked,” he called, softly, taking his kukri off its hooks above his bed and slipping it behind his back for easy access.

Spy opened the door, stepping in, “Hello Lawry,” he couldn’t help but smile.

“Hey…” It took him a moment to remember which teammate this was; he was still learning which person went with which class name. From his nest, with the other team, it didn’t really matter. “…Spy?” His hand tightened on the kukri’s wooden grip—they weren’t supposed to know each others names or use their own. That the probably-Spy had just walked in and used his actual name was…unnerving.

“It’s René,” he revealed himself, hoping that would be enough, that Lawry would remember him.

“R-René?” Lawry wasn’t good with names, but that one was etched in his memory. Letting the knife drop to the bed, he sprang up and launched himself at René—a little more slowly than his top speed; they were both mercenaries, after all, and paranoid—with open arms. He was grinning broadly. “It’s so good to see a familiar…well, some face, anyway,” he admitted. He’d been reluctant to take this job in the first place, and he’d felt out of sorts ever since he’d arrived. Not even having his camper to retreat to every night was enough to fully banish the feeling that he was about to fall with every step.

René grinned, happily stepping into Lawry’s embrace. “I was wondering if you’d recognized me. The mask does obscure more than you’d expect,” he pulled it off, running a hand through his hair to attempt to straighten it out, revealing silvering at his temples and widow’s peak.

“Mm-hmm. It’s silly, and I’m glad you took it off for me.” Lawry whispered in René’s ear. “I would’ve recognized you eventually. I’ve just been…” He laughed; it had been decades, and he still felt like he could be just as open with René as if they’d just parted. “…a bit overwhelmed.”

“Really, I hadn’t noticed,” René said drily. The Sniper had been in the back of the group, spending as much time away from the others as he could, offering nothing and responding to any attempts of friendliness with awkward silence. “I missed you,” he admitted.

“I missed you too,” Lawry quickly replied, genuinely touched by René’s openness. He laughed, a little awkwardly. “Think anyone else noticed?”

“That you’re very awkward? Yes,” he teased. “Though the Engineer seemed keen to be friends, so I doubt he would care.” He sat on the edge of Lawry’s bed.

Lawry sat beside him, still grinning. He reached out and tentatively rested a hand on René’s thigh, feeling a sexual awkwardness he thought he’d left far behind. He wanted this to go well, for them to be able to pick up where they’d left off, but maybe more than that…he wanted a lover here, but maybe more than that he wanted a friend. “He does,” Lawry agreed, “but…there’s definitely more to him than the smiling, friendly bloke. I mean, he wouldn’t _be_ here if there wasn’t, but…he reminds me a bit of a hippo, actually.” Lawry laughed. “‘Oh, I’m just a cute, roly-poly little thing.’ Then you get to close and…” He snapped his hands together like closing jaws. “You’re bitten in half. Part of why they kill so many people is because they don’t _look_ dangerous, and people get stupid the way they wouldn’t with a croc or a snake.” He looked forward to analyzing the teams with René—Spy—because he knew how much Spy noticed about people. “That Scout is quite…something.”

“You’re right about the Engineer, his file, his _family_ , is quite interesting.” He laughed a little, leaning against Lawry. “Yes, the Scout’s …something. Loud and obnoxious.”

Closing his eyes with pleasure, Lawry shuffled closer to René and put an arm around the other man’s middle. “You’re so skinny,” he murmured, lips just brushing Spy’s ear. He couldn’t decide what he wanted more right now—to talk or…get distracted. “His family?” he asked, a little breathless. He shrugged. “He must be good at what he does, or he wouldn’t be here. He’s _fast_ , that’s for sure.”

René’s shoulders hunched a little as Lawry’s breath and lips tickled his ear. He groaned, pulling Lawry into a kiss. They could talk later.

Lawry sighed a little with relief, eagerly kissing back.

René pushed him down on the bed, starting to undress. He had quite a few more layers on than last time they’d slept together. Not that he really minded the uniform, it was quite handsome on him, but he was concerned about running about in it in the desert heat. That was a thought for later, though. Soon enough he was naked, licking his lips as he watched Lawry undress.

“Gorgeous as ever,” Lawry growled. “I stand by what I said, though—you’re too skinny, mate. Gotta take better care of yourself.” He shimmied out of his trousers and left them in a heap on the floor. He wasn’t wearing anything underneath. He shrugged out of his vest, but struggled a little with the buttons on his shirt—his fingers were shaking. He peeled off his undershirt and rejoined René in the bed. He paused, frowning slightly. “You don’t have a scar.” He traced René’s shoulder, where he knew the bullet had struck, but there wasn’t a mark.

René made a face. “The only problem with you being here is you know me too well,” he smiled to let Lawry know he was only teasing. “I do have a scar, but the technology I was given allows me to cloak however I like.”

Lawry gave René’s shoulder a gentle punch. “You’re…what’s it called…cloaking it! You little sneak. Why would you need to hide that, hmm? Expecting people to see you naked, wearing all those clothes? And the mask?” He kissed René’s shoulder. René’s greying hair was very attractive, all the more so because it was slightly dishevelled from the balaclava—not that he’d tell René that. Somehow, he didn’t think it would be appreciated.

“Maybe it’s just for me,” he retorted. “Though I did think I’d eventually seduce someone around here, it would be boring without someone in my bed once in awhile.” He took off his watch and his skin seemed to flicker, new scars and tattoos appearing. The one on his shoulder was large, and still pink. He spread his arms as though to say ‘this is me’.

“Mm-hmm. That doesn’t surprise me—can’t say I wasn’t thinking the same,” Lawry admitted, “Though I wasn’t expecting it to happen quite so quickly. I’m not usually this easy, you know.” He kissed René’s shoulder again, on the exposed scar, nipping just a little to see how René reacted.

“Well, it did take us several months to end up in bed, so I wouldn’t call you easy…” René chuckled, moaning as Lawry’s teeth grazed over his scar. “Ahh,” he sighed.

“True,” Lawry purred, stubble scraping across the sensitive skin as he kissed up René’s neck to his jaw. “’spose I’ll have to get used to calling you Spy,” he said, giving Spy’s ear a nibble.

“Mmm,” René groaned, winding an arm around Lawry’s neck and pulling him into a deep kiss, working his way into the man’s lap.

Lawry shifted his hips a little, letting René feel his arousal, rubbing between René’s warm, soft thighs. “Missed you,” he murmured, when they finally pulled apart to breathe. He laughed. “Make me feel like a bloody teenager again.”

“Me too,” he gasped, taking Lawry’s cock in his hand. Memories of fucking him came back in a rush and he bit his lip. “How about you fuck me this time?”

Lawry shivered, eyelids fluttering. “Sounds perfect.” It had been a while since he’d topped—he preferred to bottom—but he was looking forward to this very much. He groaned; he couldn’t quite reach his bottle of lube with Spy’s hand on his cock, but he didn’t want to have to leave that soft heat even for the few seconds it would take.

René let go of Lawry and lay back on the bed, arms up by his head in a submissive pose.

“You’re not fooling me, not one bit,” Lawry laughed, quickly grabbing the lube and pouring a generous amount on his fingers. He slid them together, spreading and warming it.

René bit his lip, smirking up at his lover. “I have no idea what you mean.”

“’course not,” Lawry laughed. He slid the tip of one finger into Spy, pausing to let Spy adjust and let him know when he was ready for more.

Spy nodded, gasping a little, cock twitching. “God,” he groaned.

“Not quite,” Sniper grinned, pressing deeper and curling his finger a little.

Spy laughed, breathlessly, then moaned as Sniper’s finger curled inside him. “You feel so good,” he praised.

“You too. Ready for more?” Sniper was eager to put more than his fingers in Spy, but he also didn’t want to rush and hurt his lover.

“Yes,” Spy breathed, “Please…” He pushed back into Sniper’s fingers.

“Alright, take it easy,” Sniper laughed. He pulled back just far enough to allow him to slide another finger in. He tried to go slowly, but Spy pushed back hard and both were soon swallowed up to the knuckle. “What do you think, one more, or are you ready to give it a go?” He couldn’t keep the eagerness out of his voice, but he also wanted to make sure he didn’t rush preparing Spy.

“Fuck me,” there was a needy tremor in Spy’s voice. “Lawry, please,” he begged. He was sure he was ready, even if Lawry’s cock might be a bit of a stretch.

“Alright.” There was a slight growl to Sniper’s voice. He gently pulled his fingers free, curling them a little to tease Spy, and quickly slicked his cock. He positioned himself, the tip just nudging Spy. “Ready?”

“Yes,” Spy moaned, again, pushing back into Sniper excitedly.

Sniper laughed, a little breathlessly. Putting a hand on Spy’s hip, he kept the smaller man in place while he guided himself in. He exhaled, his eyes fluttering shut as he sank all the way in Spy. “Alright?” he asked. He’d gone a little faster than he’d intended, but Spy had definitely been encouraging him, with frantic little moans and half-words even as Sniper tried to hold him still.

“Good, yes,” he praised, trying to keep himself still for Sniper, but struggling at it. He wanted all of Sniper, and now. He felt so good, pressing deep into him, hot and hard. “ _Merde_ ,” he cursed.

“Filthy mouth.” Sniper’s fingers curled into Spy’s hips, now that he was free to grip with both hands. “Maybe later I’ll fuck it, hmm?” He blushed a little; he didn’t curse often, but sometimes _fuck_ was the only word that fit.

Spy tightened around Sniper’s cock at his words, moaning and grabbing at the sheets. Sniper talking like that was so hot he nearly came. “God, yes,” he choked out.

Sniper stilled his hips, needing to pause for a moment when Spy clenched around him. “You feel so good, mate. Missed you,” he said again, glad Spy had been the one to say it first. He was cautious with his emotions, and didn’t like revealing something personal or intimate until he knew how it would be received.

“Missed you too,” he managed, stroking his cock as Sniper pushed in deeper.

Sniper groaned when he felt Spy reach beneath himself and start stroking. He sped up a little, fucking Spy in earnest. “Love seeing you like this, love knowing I’m getting you this worked up.”

“ _Oh merde, oh mon dieu_.” Spy rocked back and forth which each thrust, begging for more each time Sniper pushed forwards. He whimpered as Sniper hit that particularly sensitive spot. “Fuck!”

“Close?” Sniper managed to choke out, short-nailed fingers digging deeper into Spy’s scrawny sides. He was beginning to lose his rhythm, his thrusts becoming wilder and more frenzied, but he fought his climax until he was sure Spy’s was also nearing.

“Yes, yes!” Spy tightened around Sniper as he started to cum across the sheets, burying his face in the crook of his elbow. He was flushed from his face down his chest and felt completely wrung out, and still enjoying the feel of Sniper in him.

Feeling the shift in Spy, Sniper let loose, fighting to get as deep, as fast as possible until he tipped over the edge. He slid his hands forward, grabbing the front of Spy’s thighs and pulling him close as he came deep inside his teammate.

“Ahhh,” Spy moaned, collapsing under Sniper weakly.

Sniper lasted another few thrusts before he finally stilled. After a few panting moments, he gently slid out and sprawled beside Spy. “Ahh,” he agreed.

Spy groaned, rolling over and grabbing a paper napkin from Sniper’s counter to wipe up the mess they’d made before collapsing next to the other man, breathlessly.

“Are you…do you want to… You can stay the night. If you’d like.”

“I don’t think I can walk anyways,” Spy smiled. “So I’d love to. This camper is… very you,” he said teasingly. He could have definitely imagined Lawry living in a camper van.

“I’ll take that as a compliment. …both of the things you said.” Sniper worked his arm beneath Spy’s head, cradling the other man against his shoulder. He nuzzled against Spy’s hair, inhaling the rich scent of him—it had changed so little over the years. Same brand of cigarettes, same cologne. He kissed Spy’s temple.

“Mmm,” Spy sighed. “I think I interrupted something you were saying earlier,” he grinned. “But hopefully it was worth it.”

Sniper laughed. “I definitely don’t remember. Absolutely worth it, though.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All done. Thanks for reading, guys! <3

**Author's Note:**

> First chapter is long, second one is medium, third is short.


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